Primordium Nulla Retrorsum
by TowandaBR
Summary: Don’t go back to the beginning. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Primordium Nulla Retrorsum**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

* * *

****

Don't go back to the beginning.

* * *

Veronica was holding the tryon. While an unbelievable energy was cursing through all her body, the world danced in front of her eyes.

She saw the forest, the animals, innumerable things and finally her friends. One by one she saw they came back to the same place and in the same order that they had disappeared. First Finn, then Challenger, Roxton, Malone. She was surprised when she realized the journalist was returning to the Treehouse before being swallowed by the phenomenon. Finally she saw Summerlee falling in the waterfall two years ago.

Very slowly everything was becoming calm and, exhausted, she fainted on the floor. Moments later she noticed Finn's worried eyes close to her.

"Vee? Are you all right?"

Veronica made a slight movement.

"Yes. I just need a little rest. What about you?"

"A little shaken, but I'm great." – answered the girl from the future, rising up and going to the kitchen. She returned with some water and a wet towel that she handed to her friend.

Veronica drank and then she put the wet cloth in her nape. Slowly her tense muscles were relaxing. She started to remember the events and she became apprehensive.

"Finn?"

"What?"

"I didn't see Marguerite. She didn't come back."

"What are you saying?"

Veronica faced her with sadness.

"For some reason I couldn't bring her back, Finn." – She stopped – "Marguerite is dead."

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

Veronica could not prevent to shed some tears and when she looked at Finn, the girl from the future didn't need word confirmation of what she already knew.

* * *

In a mixture of joy to be alive and sadness to learn the unexpected news, Challenger was the first one to come back to the Treehouse, meeting Finn and Veronica waiting for him.

The untamed beauty was depressed and quiet due to exhaustion and mainly for the lost of the friend she had learn to love, as Marguerite had sad before, like a sister. Challenger and Finn still argued to make her get some rest, but she refused. Of course she would like to meet Malone again, who, she knew, was coming back, however he wasn't the main reason of the refusal. More than ever she needed to deeply look into Roxton's eyes.

When the noise of the elevator resounded in the Treehouse, Veronica was brought back to the real world. Observed by the scientist and the young woman of the future, she got up slowly to wait for their friend.

When he arrived, Roxton stopped with only a one-word question formed in his lips.

"Marguerite?"

Veronica didn't react. She only stayed there motionless, with the hunter in front of her, as static as her. No words needed to be said.

Roxton not even noticed the presence of Finn and Challenger. He only went downstairs straight to his bedroom.

Although they were shocked, Challenger and Finn realized that they had to manage the situation. They made a more than ever silent Veronica to go to her bedroom, where she immediately fell in a deep sleep.

Challenger went to Roxton's bedroom finding him very quiet in a corner. He concluded that it wasn't the right moment yet to talk or to comfort. John needed be alone.

Malone arrived at sunset. Intrigued, confused, he was the least informed person in the world – at least when considering present events. At dinner table with George and Finn, he ate almost nothing while astonished was becoming informed about the facts. After dinner was over, he headed to the room of the lady he was so anxiously waiting to see again. However, he wished that the circumstances could be different. He only intended to look at her for a few minutes, but after all that months that seemed eternal to him, he couldn't resist.

"Veronica, wake up." – he whispered by her ear – "It's me."

Slowly she opened her eyes until finally distinguishing the image of the man by her side.

"Ned?" - She sat down hugging him strongly, while she finally left the tears flow uncontrollably.

* * *

At dawn Roxton felt his chest hurting. He thought he needed, more than ever, some fresh air, and went to the balcony to finally conclude: what he really needed wasn't there anymore.

He looked to nowhere. What difference would it make? He also couldn't think about anything.

"Roxton?" - He listened to the sweet voice of his beloved and he closed his eyes, delighted. Certainly he had had a nightmare and now he would wake up.

"Roxton?" - He listened to his name being called once more, only to become sad once again - "I'm sorry, Roxton. I couldn't save her." - He didn't turn to her when, after a pause, he let the words flow very slowly, in a frozen and uncontrolled tone.

"You had your priorities, Veronica, and it seems Marguerite wasn't one of them. She never was, wasn't she?"

"Roxton, I..."

"At least you could have saved some effort and left me too."

Veronica felt a burden even bigger. John was being cruel, she knew it, but wasn't he right? Would she have unconsciously abandoned the heiress?

She felt somebody put a light blanket over her shoulders, somebody who had been there all the time.

"Come on, dear." – Challenger said. He took her to the kitchen, poured some tea in two cups and sat down by her side. The young woman sought for comfort leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Maybe he's right, Challenger."

"He's not and you know that. We all know, including Roxton. You loved Marguerite and you would never let her die if you had a choice."

"I saw the exit of the plateau, Challenger."

"You what?"

"I saw Summerlee falling in the waterfall and I saw him leaving in the other side."

"Is Arthur alive?"

"I don't know. The only thing I'm sure about is that the legend was right. The waterfall is the exit of the plateau."

* * *

In the morning, Roxton went out with Finn with the task of bring back the heiress's body.

Malone as well as Challenger had volunteered themselves to do it; however Roxton refused and still reluctantly allowed only Finn to keep company to him.

As she would describe later to the others, the hunter didn't say a word during the whole hike. When they arrived, he faced the static figure and kissed her lips slightly before wrapping her body very carefully, as if he was still afraid of hurting her, in the richest fabric that he had found in the Treehouse before leaving. He didn't cry, he didn't moan. He just did what he forced himself to do.

He buried her close to a place where Marguerite usually isolated herself whenever she wanted to be alone. The burial counted on their friends' presence: Challenger, Malone and Finn.

Veronica observed everything from a distance that John couldn't notice. Only after some time, when Roxton went back home, she finally got closer to put a ginger flower over her friend's grave. Then she walked some kilometers until the place where her father was buried and put some wild flowers on top of his tombstone.

"I'm sorry, dad. I know how much you like the ginger flower, but the only one I found today I gave to someone that is also very special to me."

* * *

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Malone lowered himself down besides Veronica, helping her to pick the vegetables for lunch.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"This is my wish, but I prefer that you leave."

"Why?" - For the first time they diverted the eyes from the work at hand and looked to each other.

"I'm selfish, Ned. If you stay here I want you fully with me, with not a single doubt about what you've left behind."

* * *

In the following days they worked a lot collecting samples, packing their belongings. Almost all the time they were in silence and held a sad look.

Finn decided to stay in plateau. No matter how curious she was about the civilized world, although in another epoch, she had been born there and even if the rest of the group would leave and she was alone with Veronica, she finally had found her 'family'.

Nobody dared to speak with Roxton, remembering how unfair he had been with Veronica.

Ned, Finn and Challenger still tried, but at any sign of more serious conversation the hunter left.

When visiting Marguerite's grave every morning, he got used to always find fresh flowers from somebody that had been there before him, even earlier in the morning.

On the day before their departure, Roxton woke up earlier than usual, just to meet Veronica coming back from her morning walk. She was surprised when seeing him so early and even more surprised when he took the things that she was carrying from her, put them on the ground, taking her hands in his.

"I deeply thank you for having saved my life, and I ask you to forgive me because I truly hurt you." - his voice was firm, but gentle - "I would like you to know that here I lived the best years of my life and that you are the friend that only a few have the privilege to meet."

"Roxton..." - She looked at him, touched.

"I know..." - He took the small basket of fruits of the ground coming back with her to the Treehouse.

* * *

And that was how they threw themselves in the waterfall, believing it to be, on that moment, more profitable to believe in the unknown world that London had become, than to doubt what they knew so well: the plateau.

**CONTINUE...**

**_Please R&R_**


	2. Chapter 2

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 2**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Thank you for the reviews or comments: Santa Crux, Roxana, Adina, Explorer, Katybelle, The Dramatic Dolphin, Cris, Rosa,

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

They barely saved the clothes they had on. Actually, they'd not even felt when they hit the water. They woke up by the margin of the river not knowing what had happened, neither if it had elapsed minutes, hours, or days.

They sought for the packages they had brought with themselves, but they didn't find any sign of them. No tracks, absolutely nothing was found in the river of shallow waters. Backpacks and packages filled of proofs about the existence of the lost world gathered in the last three years were lost. Finally, they verified that each one of them had kept a single object.

After having packed all his things, Malone had noticed that he had forgotten to wrap up two of his journals, one of them about the plateau. He wrapped them in linoleum and, using a bandage, tied them attached to his body, under his undershirt. He was surprised when he found only one – and it was not the one about the plateau. He found exactly the only journal he had never ever shown to anybody: a small journal about Veronica.

On those first days in the plateau, he had been so affected by the girl that he had chosen the smaller of his notebooks and trained himself to write his thoughts about her on it. And the most important thing there was how she affected him and how only being by her side comforted him and reduced his fears. Although it brought to him a new fear: to lose her. Sometimes he suspected that the young woman knew how special were the words written in that specific journal. Not that she had read it furtively. Ned was quite right that she would never violate his privacy, but even though she would always reserve a different look for him whenever he dedicate his time to scribble in that specific notebook.

Roxton smiled. He had saved the two things that had great significance for him. His hat that, in an impetus, he had left back to his friends as a gift for the Treehouse. And an intact picture of Marguerite, with one of her pretended furious look that he loved so much. In the day that picture had been taken, he had stolen the sweetest kiss from her.

The picture was taken almost one year after they had arrived to the plateau. Challenger had asked her to pose having a brontosaurus by the opening, behind her, in order to allow London readers to get a real proof of the animal dimensions. It was a very hot day and Marguerite seemed to be crankier than ever. The scientist's delay in choosing a better angle didn't make the situation any better. Even after the picture, she was still in the same bad mood. Although knowing how dangerous she could be in that mood, Roxton got closer to her while she was muttering to herself and washing some clothes, and kissed her. She corresponded in a very passionate way, but soon after got rid of him and left stamping her feet and calling him names, pretending to be offended by his gesture.

Challenger had put four precious stones in the pocket of his vest. When he opened the small sack where they were, there was only one remaining. Not the largest one, neither the smallest, but the one he would use to finance their journey back to London, nothing more, nothing less.

Together with some others, he had saved that specific stone for two years. Usually it was Marguerite's characteristic to keep them. But that one had been collected by him while walking in the forest, the last time he had been together with Summerlee, a day before their frustrated trial of leaving the plateau that finished with Arthur hurt by an arrow and falling on the waterfall. Sometimes, he thought that if he had dedicated less time to find the exit of the lost world, his friend would be still alive.

They walked for almost half day down the river. The weather was hot and humid but the fact that they were traveling without any baggage helped a lot. They noticed that those three years in the plateau had given them enough training so that short trip day in the jungle was very calm.

Finally they arrived at a small and rustic village, where they were received warmly. It seemed that all the inhabitants, maybe moved by idle curiosity, agglomerated around to welcome them.

Even though their hosts didn't speak the same language, they found a way to explain themselves clearly in what really mattered. Some words were similar to the Zanga's language and other words had been learned by the natives when in contact with expeditions that had been there before. They were given the best their hosts could offer to a guest.

Taken to the shallow part of the river, where it formed small swimming pools of running water, they were bathed with herbs; their scratches cared, their clothes washed and manually sewn.

They had a delicious meal including fish roasted inside huge banana leaves, cooked manioc and tea.

They were guided to a small cottage, where the air circulated freely, providing a soft breeze where, in mats, they slept almost immediately, so exhausted they were from the trip.

When they woke up, they walked around the village and later they were guided to different places.

Challenger was taken by the women and he had a good time while they tried to teach him the art of weaving baskets from natural straws. He was enchanted with their abilities.

Malone was taken by the hunters, who showed him the art of the hunt weapons' manufacture. Although they were making fatal instruments, they were careful to carve symbols that showed the respect they had for their preys.

Roxton was 'captured' by the children, who took him to the river, where they spend a lot of time raising on his shoulders, using him as diving-board and summoning him to join them in the recreation.

On that day, the three men surrendered to the small life pleasures, as they had not been able to do for a long time, and for some time they could temporarily forget the real reason for them to be there.

When darkness fell, they met up with the Indian chief close to the bonfire. He gave them a bag filled with tobacco showing how they should inhale it.

After some minutes, they felt light and completely opened to listen to the words that would come next.

"You have a lot of questions and I have some answers." – the native began – "Our community has been here for hundreds of years and we have a mission to accomplish: to receive those who leave the plateau. Each one of you was allowed to bring a precious thing with you."

"This is not true. I lost almost all my journals."

"You still kept a precious one, didn't you?"

Ned smiled. The native pointed next to Roxton.

"You were allowed to keep something that, in any moment, can show you that you're still alive."

John touched the picture that he had close to his heart.

"I left empty-handed!" – the scientist protested – "All my experiments and notes are just gone."

"If all your experiments and notes had been saved, how do you think you would afford to get back to where you want to go?" – Challenger held the stone firmly inside his pocket. After a pause he spoke.

"I need to know one thing."

"Arthur Summerlee." - Ned completed.

"One of the kindest men I had the honor to meet."

"Did he leave the plateau? Did he survive?" - Roxton was curious.

* * *

In the same way Challenger, Roxton and Malone had wakened up at the riverbank, with Summerlee happened no different. But hit by an arrow in the abdomen, he barely could move and so he stayed there, looking at the sky, breathless, awaiting for his destiny, until he was found and taken to the village.

Being seriously wounded and very weak, each member of the community tried to contribute to make the old man get better: since those who picked fruits to make juice for him, to the ones who cared for him day and night, trying to keep him comfortable.

And he never complained. For a long time he convalesced, getting better and strengthening.

In the first days after getting back to his senses, he was satisfied only by observing, curiously, that people who so kindly took care of him. Later, when he could already talk, he had a good time trying to communicate with the diligent hosts.

Still by his bed, the children met together around the botanist telling him stories about hunts using sign language. Summerlee adored having them around. They also brought plants so that he could teach the name of each one of them. Nobody understood anything; however the soft tone of Arthur's voice was always a delight to the children.

His slow recovery already lasted almost two months, when he was suddenly caught by an infection that would have been easily healed if his organism weren't so weakened. After several days fighting for dear life, he died.

But he wasn't sad when he passed away. On that year, in the plateau, he had had the adventure of an entire life and he was thankful for that. And in one night like this, under the effects of the tobacco, he spoke about friends that he had made and left back: the obstinate Marguerite and Veronica; Challenger, the best friend; Roxton, the fearless; Malone, the boy.

The three friends meditated and reached a common conclusion: Arthur Summerlee, the generous.

* * *

The following days were fulfilled with work. The rainy season would make their traveling too dangerous, so they tried to enjoy their stay as much as they could, and paying his hosts with their work.

Roxton taught some techniques that he had learned while he hunted and while he learned to fight and survive in the plateau. He trained the natives to get meet easier and in greater quantities.

Challenger devoted himself to teach the women a more efficient way of cultivating the ground to extract larger advantages from it. He showed how they should plow the form soil to make better user of the rainwater.

Malone helped in the building of a mud oven. When the work was finished, he smiled when noticing it was very similar to the one that existed at the Treehouse. He also surrendered to the manual work, cutting firewood to the dawn.

After a month, they prepared their scanty luggage and they left. They were escorted along the Amazon river to other villages, later to the closest town, from there to a small city, later to a bigger one, until they finally arrived to Belem.

In Belem, they urged to inform the Zoological Society about their travel back, and they arranged transatlantic transport.

They traveled badly accommodated at the basement of a cargo ship, the only alternative they found considering their limited budget, and they steered towards that once called home: London.

**TO BE CONTINUED... **

_**Please R&R**_


	3. Chapter 3

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 3**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Thanks for the reviews and comments: Explorer, Interested, Santa Crux.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

For a long time they had imagined how their arrival to London would be likely.

The port crowded people: eminent members of the Zoological Society and of the London elite very well-dressed, men with their best suites and pending from their arms distinct ladies with their best dresses and hats.

Reporters with their writing pads and tireless hands trying to jot down all the details, photographers with their Brownie box or bellow cameras poking each other in search of the best angle for the first page picture of the great explorers' of the Challenger's expedition.

A band playing cheerful music, pricked papers being thrown over them, children raising a racket...

Instead of that, they disembarked under the cold fog of a rainy morning where only an employee of the Zoological Society awaited for them. It seemed that he was barely eighteen or nineteen years old. Wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella, he approached them.

"Professor George Challenger?" – He asked in a loud voice, trying to be heard above the noises that surrounded them.

"That's me." – The scientist said, then pointing to his companions - "And these are Lord John Roxton and Edward Malone."

"What about Professor Summerlee and Miss Krux?"

"It's only the tree of us now."

"All right. Please, follow me."

It seemed that it was the first time they saw London.

The quantity of cars in the streets had increased significantly during their absence, and also the lights and the new buildings.

Lost in their thoughts, none of them talked during the short journey.

They were taken to a hotel downtown. With no luxury, but very clean and silent, where they finally could take a shower, shave, have a delicious and full meal and sleep in beds covered with clean sheets perfumed with lavender.

Unlike Roxton and Challenger, Malone, even tired, woke up in the middle of the night seeking for refuge in a desk by the corner of the room. He lit the lamp and began to write compulsively as he had been doing since embarking in Belem.

"_I want to remember everything, but it's impossible. I am writing what I can recall for maybe later trying to order all the facts in the clearest way. However no matter how much my thoughts float through everything we went through, they always insist on landing in the same place. Will she be alright?" _

Ned observed his deep sleep friends.

"_We talked so little during our journey back. We shared so many things together and suddenly we are acting quite as strangers. Much more silent now than when we departed, more than three years ago, to the lost world." _

He stopped for an instant, because this last sentence made him think. And it was how the others meet him next morning, still eventually writing, but thinking, most of the time.

When they went down for breakfast, still in silence, they found a messenger of the Zoological Society, summoning them for a meeting on that morning.

They exchanged glances, thinking it strange. Until that moment they had not received any news about their families, any contact, anything, and the first thing that awaited them on that morning was exactly the improbable: a summoning for an immediate meeting in the Zoological Society.

The messenger was a simple bellboy anyway and he didn't have the answers that they would appreciate. They got back to their room and after quickly getting dressed they went down to follow the boy to the building of the Society.

Once again all their expectations would be frustrated. Whenever they imagined their reception in the Zoological Society, they visualized a crowd of renowned scientists bending their more elegant tuxedos. A lobby full of people, where the champagne, the scotch and the cigars were passing from hand to hand. The journalists strategically positioned at the entrance of the huge hall to photograph them from all angles, and all of them prepared so that each word the explorers could say became a front page article in all newspapers in London.

However, what they found when arriving was just the empty and silent lobby, covered in dust, as in any normal day. No public awaited them, the pulpit was empty and nothing there could remind them of the glamour that George Challenger had had exactly in that hall when he had been setting up the expedition.

A reduced group of severe-looking teachers waited for them, idly seating appreciating their tea. They were three teachers, who got up at the explorers' arrival, greeted them coldly, and asked that each one of them accompanied them, separately.

"I demand an explanation." - Challenger finally couldn't hold his rage.

His friends – and the professors – all stopped, caught by surprise due to his unexpected reaction.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but we are the ones who are here to listen to your explanations." – The professor who was in charge of Challenger hurried to punctuate, emphatically.

Challenger felt a blush wave invading his faces, and his traditional apoplexy was demonstrated, but he controlled himself in view of the apathetical glance of Roxton and Malone. The best thing seemed to remain quiet, do what the Society had drifted for, and put a soon end to all of that, so they could proceed with their lives.

They were led to the second floor of the building, where each one, accompanied of one of the teachers, was locked in a room. In that room, besides them, there was just one stenographer to take notes. And they were all alone when they understood what was happening.

"Please, tell us your full name, birth date and birthplace. "

The procedure was repeated in the three rooms as if it had been rehearsed thoroughly. The three answered to the identification questions, more and more intrigued due to the fact that such data was fully known by the Society!

"Can you tell us what happened in the last three years? "

"We arrived to the Lost World." – Challenger began – "Traveling through the Amazonian forest, we reached a continental plateau with a balloon piloted by Edward Malone."

"The balloon that I piloting was picked in an ascending flow, and when we came back to our senses again, we had crashed against an enormous tree inside of the plateau." – Malone explained in another room.

"We found all kinds of prehistoric animals in this plateau: tyrannosaurus Rex almost as high as this building, raptors faster than anything we have ever seen, and animals larger than a common house." - Roxton calmly explained for by his time.

"We had been preceded by a previous expedition, a large one, the Layton expedition." - Challenger tried to set up the jigsaw puzzle of their trip in the clearest way for their interviewers.

"And it was the leader of that expedition's daughter, Veronica, who gave us shelter during those three years that we spent at the plateau. We stayed at the Treehouse her parents and their expedition had built." - Ned added.

"Yes, Veronica was a great hunter, who survived alone for eleven years using as weapons just knives to hunt." – It was always admired observation always from Roxton to the professor who was interrogating him.

"Evidences? Let me see, we barely got to leave from there alive. I have just explained you that we fell in a waterfall and we lost everything that we had! How do you dare to doubt my words and demand concrete proofs of one of the more well-known members of this society?" – Challenger was irascible.

"My diaries were all lost in the waterfall!" – Ned insisted, knowing he would never show them the only diary that had remained: the one about Veronica.

"Trophies? Are you crazy? You don't even seem like a professor asking these silly questions! Do you have any idea about the size of one of those animals? We barely escaped alive, how could we even consider bringing some of those specimen with us! We would have sunk in the waterfall!" - Roxton, for his time, was bitter.

"What about Professor Summerlee? And what about the sponsor of your expedition, Miss Krux?" - The question was repeated separately in the three rooms.

"We had a battle with a rebel tribe that intended to dominate the plateau using of the gunpowder." - Challenger began explaining.

"Gunpowder? Did they know gunpowder? Or did you show them how to make it?"

"Actually, we taught a lizard-men tribe, involuntarily – under torture I should say. And they gave the knowledge to that rebel tribe." – Ned continued.

"Exactly. Lizard-men! Savages? Oh, my! At least they were not more savage than you professor is being now!" - Roxton had definitively lost his patience.

"No, we couldn't find him. He was dragged by the water flow and he fell in a huge waterfall. He still communicated with us after that." - Challenger added.

"He used telepathy, of course! It happened that I fell in the same waterfall, however I was strangely turned back." – Ned tried to explain.

"Of course we tried to save him! But the same lizard-man that saved me saw him falling in the waterfall, where we didn't get to reach him. We knew after that he had left the plateau and he was recovering in the same tribe who welcomed us, but he had a jungle fever and died soon afterwards." - Roxton completed his explanation about Summerlee.

"And your sponsor?"

"She was killed by a druid tribe who took her by one of her ancestral." – Challenger tried to maintain his voice impassive, despite the pain caused by talking over Marguerite.

"Yes! Druids who said they were her ancestral, but who stabbed her instead!" – Ned was trying to explain the terrible situation through which his friends had gone.

"Of course we didn't abandon her! But when we finally found her there was nothing else we could do, she was already dead!" - Roxton was taken by the pain and furious with the indifference and coldness that the professor was using during the interrogation.

They knew that there were details that should remain with them, or they would risk to be locked up as crazy men.

In another room, not far away from there, the transcriptions of each one of their interviews were arriving and being compared.

Even separate, the three men's story versions coincided and gave solid and coherent depositions towards the truth behind the facts, despite the lack of proofs. But everything they've told sounded absolutely impossible: a lost plateau, with dinosaurs, ape-men, lizard-men, encounter of reality plans, and still one of the members of the expedition killed by druidas. Definitely unlikely.

After having finished with the 'interrogatory', the three men were taken to the room where the chairman of the Zoological Society had followed the confrontation through the transcriptions.

"Can I know the reason for us to be interrogated in that way?" – Challenger had returned to his old self.

"Since you have not proofs, we needed to know if the information you were telling was true. It served also to evaluate the responsibility you had in the death of two members of your expedition. This Society has a reputation to take care of as you know, George." – The professor explained.

"And are you convinced now?" – Ned dared to ask.

The man delayed a little to answer.

"Let us just say that the depositions are impressive, but without proofs the Zoological Society cannot corroborate them, even less to allow the results to be published. Our impartial observer is dead, your sponsor is also deceased, and we don't want to see the name of the Society associated to this type of ambitious history that cannot be proven. I'm really sorry, George. Now, you are free to go. There is a car waiting for each one of you to take you to your houses or wherever you prefer. Have a good morning, gentlemen." - He got up, signaling that the interview was over.

The men greeted him surprised, and before they could protest they found themselves being dazzled by the dull brightness of the streets of London.

The three exchanged glances – just Roxton had remained quiet since the end of the interrogation.

"John?" – Noticing that Challenger put the hand in his friend's shoulders.

The hunter seemed to wake up from a bad dream, when he raised his astonished eyes towards him.

"They think we abandoned them, George. Could they be possibly right?" – Once again a not deserved guilty hurt the lord.

"We made everything that was possible, Roxton, and you know it as well as us. Don't leave those damn professors get what they want, that is to destroy us, to demoralize us." - Ned said, for his time, supporting his friend.

Definitely they were not used anymore to the cold weather in London neither to the coldness of London people. Nothing there could remind them of the plateau.

Three cars awaited for them, with their scanty luggage already collected at the hotel.

"I believe that, for now, it's here that we say good-bye. Let's be in touch, ok?" – Challenger said in a frustrated tone.

"Of course." – Roxton and Malone answered formally.

Each one entered in a car, and left in different directions.

Finally alone, each one would try to rebuild the images and references in that world they came back to.

Edward Malone would try to rescue his memories, John Roxton his life, George Challenger his credibility.

**TO BE CONTINUED... **

_**Please R&R**_


	4. Chapter 4

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 4**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Roxana, thanks for your kindness. To all the others: thanks for all your reviews!

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

**

* * *

**

George Challenger got down from the trolley and stopped, looking at the building in front of him: a two-store house built in wood and stone.

After hesitating for some minutes, he pushed the iron gate, but at first he didn't manage to open it. One of the hinges had broken, and the large gate dragged in the ground. Besides, it was rusty. He used a piece of wood as a lever, and finally managed to open the gate, entering in the garden.

The place was covered with dead vegetation and infested by weeds, greenflies, caterpillars, acaroids and ants. The scientist dwelled on right the center and closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind he saw the small, but beautiful garden, punctuated by pruned vegetation, filled of roses, marigolds, iris, geraniums, and dracaenas. By the small fountain, as one of his little home-made experiences, George had developed the culture of hydroponics plants.

He climbed the three steps that gave access to the balcony. He stopped before the heavy hardwood door, so different now, gnawed by the termites. Only a light push was enough to open it, giving him access to the interior of the house.

Everything that he could see illuminated only by the sunbeams that penetrated through the windows' gap was covered by a thin layer of dust and spider's webs.

He began his pilgrimage by the hall. He looked at the stairways and closed his eyes, remembering his Jessie, whose splendorous vision in a purple silk dress had made him to forget how late they were for the solemnity of his project recognition.

In the living room, he recalled the winter nights, when they were in company of one another, reading a book under the cozy light of the fireplace, changing accomplice smiles and mature passion looks.

In his cabinet, to the left of the entrance door, the scientist, concentrated in his work, suddenly noticed a cup of black cherries tea with home-made cookies or a piece of nut cake in front of him. She knew as nobody to make him feel important.

In the dining room, he delighted eating fish, potatoes and the delicious dessert made of green apples.

In the kitchen, the man recalled the countless times when he received a disapproval glance from his wife, when using their stove for his experiences, what almost always destroyed some utensil, dirtied the dependences or left an unbearable smell all around the house. As a naughty boy, he ran for her, kissed her cheek and fled far away from there. Only after he left she allowed herself a stealthy smile.

He went upstairs until the couple's room, sat down on the floor, exactly in the same place where their bed used to be located. He closed his eyes once more and could almost feel the soft touch of the only woman capable to fill out his life.

George was surprised when feeling the heat of a lonely tear slowly falling through his face. Something was missed at that house. The laughter of the children that would have made their lives complete. The children he didn't allow himself – or Jessie – to have.

At first, when he received the news about his Jessie, he hesitated on what decision he should take.

The news about a massacre of Challenger's expedition had been desolated for her – after all, people had never had any news about any survivor of that kind of attack. The information had been given by other loaders that, weeks later, found the remaining bodies already impossible of be identified, except for the clothes.

She still waited for two years, even hopeless, for any news that some explorer, and mainly George, could still be alive.

The expedition would be dangerous, and exactly for that, Challenger had left all of the properties and belongings under his wife's administration. If anything ever happened to him, she would have a way to survive.

Even though, she just sold things that were not essential to her, and mainly of those that brought back bitter memories to her. Feeling the loneliness height over her heart, she used her good education and decided to live on being governess in wealthy family homes.

Since then, a new Jess was born, owning her own life completely. The same life that had been originally tied to her father, and, later on, after her marriage, tied to the scientist. The world was finally open to her, and she met new people, as interesting as the scientist friends of her husband.

When her youngest sister (much younger than she) and husband suddenly died in Australia, leaving four small children alone, Jessie took for herself the responsibility of raising them up, and for there she moved to take care of the small ones to whom she dedicated as if they were truly her own children.

With Challenger she had learned what was companionship and love. Without him, she found out what was to be complete.

"You're happy, aren't you dear?" – the scientist asked to himself, as if he wanted the wind to take his words until her, now very distant from there.

He closed the door of what had once been his house. That was another turned page in life, and George decided he had no right to interfere. He would continue his life as well as Jessie was continuing hers.

"Goodbye, Jessie."

Challenger moved to a small city in the countryside. There he taught classes in the local school, where very often people asked him why somebody holding the impressive academic credentials would teach in that godforsaken place.

"Fresh air." – He answered.

Amazingly as it could seem, it was at least partially true.

When he was not teaching, he could walk freely trying to meet again even a small portion of all the marvelous things he had face one day. Science was not as interesting in the civilized world as it used to be, and that caused him tedious due to the lack of mystery.

Seating on the grass, he laugh as if he remembered their mad rush to escape from a raptor or other animal. Or as if recalling the delicious and warm discussions with Summerlee, each one of them defending passionately their point of view. Sometimes they even agreed, but none of them would give in. It was more entertaining to pick on each other.

But Summerlee wasn't among them anymore. And that town in the countryside, in spite of the vegetation and the fresh air, was not – and would never be – the Lost World...

**TO BE CONTINUED... **

_**Please R&R**_


	5. Chapter 5

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 5**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Roxana, Santa Crux, Cris, Explorer. Thanks for the reviews and comments.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

The trip from London to Avebury had not been easy.

The whole time some passenger recognized the well-known adventurer's face that had been shown in the front page of all the main newspapers of the continent. So much attention by strangers was not a surprise, since to have left unharmed a lost expedition for three years was a feat.

But the fame was another person's dream, someone that had not survived to accomplish it.

Unharmed? Each one knows the pain and the delight to be what it is, and the delight of his existence had been extinguished. It had been harvested by incomprehensible forces that governed the plateau, while the stabbing pain of the loss remained, coming back more and more intense to each memory of those big blue eyes, the sarcastic laughter that illuminated his now extinguished existence.

But we all know that nothing is as bad as it seems, everything can be worst and that was an idea that bitter life had being inculcating in his heart.

The occurrences in London had not been the best ones, and his mother's message asking his immediate return to Avebury certainly had not contributed in anything to improve his condition.

The entrance of the Roxton's manor was the same. The great gate made of twisted iron, the road flanked by pine trees with the imposing staircase at the end, the pillars, the balcony, the great door.

There he had spent all his childhood and part of his youth, there he had survived great losses and he had found great happiness, but to enter without knocking on the door didn't seem appropriate.

He took a deep breath, lifted the latch and dropped it on the door in a shy, low sound, as if he was afraid to be answered. The door was opened by a familiar, sad and aged face that for a long time had not been amongst his thoughts.

"John, it's good that you attended our call. Lady Roxton is not well at all."

And he saw himself being guided, for whom he considered like a second father, Coburn, the faithful Roxton's butler for almost half century, to the second floor of the house where he had grown up.

Coburn stopped in front of the door of the main room and in a low voice tone prepared John for the scene that would face.

"Lady Roxton worsened a lot in the last few days. Her health was never the same again since the tragedy that affected all of us. The tuberculosis ran out of control. Her days are almost over... Nothing can be done... I'm sorry!"

Roxton knew about the disease against which his mother had been fighting for years. He had always been optimist about that, because Lady Roxton was always very strong and she fought bravely against the infection. The news could not be worse.

"Your departure and disappearance were too much for your mother. We thought we had lost you until we got the news from the newspapers. Seeing you now will affect her, we hope this is a way to make her last moments amongst us more peaceful."

And with these words, he opened the door of the dark room and saw the four posted bed where his mother was laying down, thin, pale, with an expression of deep pain. He got closer.

"Mother?" - he asked, taking her small hand, whose temperature accused her feverish state.

"My son! Are you all right? I thought that you wouldn't arrive on time."

"Mother, are you all right? What am I saying? I can see that you are not. Forgive me for abandoning you, I know I was a terrible son, but my pain was too big, I couldn't support the accusing glances. Everybody blamed me for William's accident and for dad's heart attack, I..."

Lady Roxton interrupted him.

"John, everything was a terrible accident, you are not guilty of anything. I'm so sorry that you spent all that time tormented by those feelings..." – She coughed, coughed vigorously, to the point of blood spilling from her lips - "Losing them was very difficult for me, and thinking that I had lost you was even more difficult. You are the last of us. I have a request..." - and she continued to cough, scaring Roxton, who had never seen his mother in that condition.

"Mom, we will talk to each other later, I need to call the doctor now. Rest while he doesn't get here. We will speak to each other when you feel better."

"No, my son, my time with you is getting extinguished fast. Soon I will be with your father and William. Don't cry, dear, I'm happy that I'll meet them again, someday you'll come too." – She said while coughing. "You are the last one, you need to assume your title... the family businesses... the properties... get married with a good girl... to be happy in... in... England..." – Suddenly she became silent, giving herself into spasms that got stronger and stronger, scaring Roxton even more.

"Mother!"

"Please,... say... that you will do it!" - She pleaded in a voice that soon extinguished.

Roxton took her hand once again and said, without even thinking.

"Yes, I will."

The woman continued coughing, contorting in a frightening way, until she stopped. Her strength was over.

More than fast, Coburn came to their encounter, but nothing else could be done.

Lady Roxton was gone.

**TO BE CONTINUED... **

_**Please R&R**_

* * *

About the title Primordium Nulla Retrorsum

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote in Chapter 9 of The Lost World:

_"This way, my young friend," said he; "vestigia nulla retrorsum. Never look rearwards, but always to our glorious goal."_

The translation of Primordium Nulla Retrorsum to Portuguese means something like: Don't go back to the beginning or don't go back to the origin.

I was curious myself about the phrase and I asked about it. Joseph Brazauskas, a gentle translator (Latin to English) answered as follow.

_Primordium Nulla Retrorsum _

_Joseph Brazauskas_

_Answer/comment: There's no turning back._

_Explanation:_

_'Nulla' presumably qualifies some such substantive as 'vestigia'. The phrase seems to be an allusion to Horace, Epistulae, 1.1.70ff.:_

_Quod si me populus Romanus forte roget, cur_

_non, ut porticibus, sic iudiciis fruar isdem,_

_nec sequar aut fugiam quae diligit ipse vel odit,_

_olim quod volpes aegroto cauta leoni_

_respondit referam: 'Quia me vestigia terrent,_

_omnia te adversum spectantia, nulla retrorsum.'_

_There are also extant some fragments of the satirist_

_Lucilius (180-102 BCE), whence Horace almost certainly drew_

_his inspiration for his own version of this Aesopic fable_

_(Warmington, 30.1111ff.):_

_leonem aegrotum et lassum_

_inluvies scabies oculos huic deque petigo_

_conscendere_

_tristem et corruptum scabie et porriginis plenum_

_Deducta tunc voce leo "cur te ipsa venire_

_non vis huc?"_

_"Sed tamen hoc dicas quid sit, si noenu molestum est."_

_"Quid sibi vult, quare fit ut introversus et ad te_

_spectent atque ferant vestigia se omnia prosus?"_

_The moral is that, once one has committed oneself to a life of abnormalcy and excess, it is impossible to return to the natural one to which one was born._


	6. Chapter 6

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 6**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Cris, Roxana, Phoenix. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

Edward Malone had gotten a job in the newspaper owned by Gladys' father, where he started to write chronicles with an enthusiasm inversely proportional to his need of rewrite his lost journals about the lost world.

Maybe for being too discouraged to notice that his destiny belonged only to him, he had retaken his relationship with the young woman.

She dragged him to parties, introducing him as her courageous fiancé who had been in the famous Challenger expedition and who had survived the dangers of the jungle. When they began to ask him about his life during those years, he just shrugged saying that they would have to wait for the publication of his work. Or he simply would excuse himself and, following the waiter, he helped himself a cup of wine, staying the rest of the night hidden by a corner.

Gladys became furious and when they were back on the car, driven by a professional driver, she talked and talked no-stopping all the way back home late at night.

"Good night, Gladys." – He said invariably, leaving the car and ascending the four stairway floors that separated him from his refuge.

He lived at a small room of a boarding-house in the suburbs, with a narrow bed, table, chair, and an old small wooden wardrobe, that was more than he thought he needed on those days. Even as Gladys' fiancé he received, without knowing, a wage just a little bit higher than that would be pay to other journalist in the same position.

He woke up at 4.30AM, washed himself and, after getting dressed, walked, still in darkness, the three blocks that separated him from the train that would take him for almost two hours to London downtown. During the route, the journalist leaned his head against the window glass and looked outside with a melancholic face. He never slept during the journey, but he also didn't notice anything of the world around him. When reaching his destiny, he descended dragging himself to the writing desk, where he greeted mechanically all people who showed themselves untruly indulgent to that young pathetic man who would become son-in-law of the newspaper's owner.

It was offered to him a full-time job, but Ned refused. He needed that free time to dedicate to what was much more important.

And he seemed possessed by some power. From his mind sprouted such vivid memories of the three years in that stranded land, that he almost could touch them. Fearing to lose them in an irremediable way, he wrote without stopping until his ink was over. Then, afflicted, he took the pencil and continued until his fingers hurt or he was beaten by the fatigue and slept on top of the yellowish pages that he used.

In his few nights of real sleep, he would take a bath in the shared bathroom of the boarding-house and he lied down in his bed, hugged to the worn journal, with worn leather layer, that he had always with him and that sent him back to that sweet glance. Then Edward Malone dreamed. But, when waking up in the following day, when the sun was high making him loose his working day, he tried to recall the words with what she had caressed his ears in his dream, but he couldn't.

Sometimes he tortured himself with the idea that, without any picture to help him remember, he could forget her face.

In a rainy afternoon, Ned closed his eyes searching for her face and finally he noticed that, on the contrary of the lost world that was recorded in his brain and for that reason it would need to be quickly transferred to the paper, Veronica was carved in an indelible way in his soul.

And she was so proud of the person he had became during that time. And she trusted that he was a fair man and that he would do anything he needed to find his place in the world.

After months of apathy, he finally decided that the moment to rewrite his own history had come.

* * *

Malone ate very little during the dinner. Instead of that, he observed with attention the ambient that surrounded him, the luxury, the people, the employees of the restaurant always in a rigid pose, silent and educated. The customers, dressed in impeccable vests, formal, talking about subjects that Ned imagined that many of them actually didn't understand.

He also observed his companion.

Gladys had complained for several times. The slightly inadequate wine's temperature, the service that she didn't consider immediate, the heat.

The journalist was irritated and still thought about doing some comment, but he gave up when noticing that the problem was not the restaurant, the people that surrounded him, nor London and neither Gladys. Although he refused to admit for a long time already, he noticed in a clearer way than ever that he no more belonged and he would never belong to that place again.

He had stopped being Ned Malone, the journalist interested in his professional status and that had fun at elegant parties. He had become the man interested in tell histories and stories, interested to be a part of them and in tasting a wonderful meal in good friends' company, without worrying so much about good manners.

After dinner, differently from usual, he took Gladys back to her home.

"We need to talk, Gladys." - She took him to the elegant library.

"Do you want to drink something, Neddy?"

"No, thank you." - Malone hesitated and finally noticed that he couldn't postpone that conversation anymore – "I need to go back, Gladys."

"It's still early."

"You didn't understand. I'll be back to the lost world."

Gladys forced a smile.

"This is a good joke." - She stopped to observe her fiancé. He held a sad glance. - "You're not kidding, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

"What about your book? "

"I'm also sorry to tell you that I wouldn't like to publish it through your father's publishing house."

"But you dreamed about that all your life, Neddy."

"I know that, but I have changed and my dreams also have changed."

"And what about me? "

"Forgive me, Gladys, but my new dreams don't include you. I'm sorry."

"I can be a part of them again, Neddy. I love you"

"You also know that's not true. We were young and it was very convenient for me and for you that we stayed together. I think we really believed that one day we could fall in love, but I know now that it will not be possible anymore."

"That girl from the jungle is the cause of all of this, isn't she?"

"No. We are the reason of all of this, Gladys. If there was really something strong between me and you, there wouldn't be doubts about what to do."

"Did you already think that she may not want you?"

The journalist turned to face her.

"You didn't understand, did you? I'm not coming back because of her, but because of me. If it was just for her, I would never have left. I had to do that journey back to discover the place where I belong."

"And how do you intend to do that? To go back? You will need money and you are completely broken."

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I never get back there. But having a goal again makes me feel alive. I want to work a lot, save money, publish my book... "

"All I need to do is to say one single word to my father, and you shall not publish anything in Europe for the rest of your life."

Malone smiled.

"I needed to write, Gladys, and that I did. If I have to publish what I've written in inferior pamphlets, then shall it be. If not even in this way I can publish my diaries, that's how life is."

"Neddy?"

"Be happy, Gladys."

He said that and left wandering through the streets of London, feeling light and alive as he didn't feel since a long time.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_**Please R&R**_


	7. Chapter 7

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 7**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Thank you very, very, very much: Roxana, Cris, Santa Crux, Katybelle, Beckers.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

Roxton was almost trampled by a car when he quickly crossed the busy street. He ran to the sidewalk, trying to reach the only woman who never left his dreams.

There she was: her majestic walking and the dark hair cascading along her shoulders and her back.

He slightly held her right arm, murmuring:

"Marguerite!"

When she turned to face him, the hunter could finally face the brown eyes. She was certainly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but she was not his Marguerite.

"I'm sorry." - He said, bewildered - "I thought you were somebody else."

At first, she sketched an irritated reaction; however, when noticing the deception and sadness in the man's face, she just shook her head lightly in sign of acceptance of his excuses and continued her way.

After some seconds, he tried to recompose himself. He raised his head, puffed up the chest and arranged the suit jacket, made in a herringbone fabric especially for him in the best tailor of Avebury, as well as the white shirts and the pure silk tie bounded by a golden necktie clip matching the cuff links. The black shoes he was using were also hand-made.

Liking it or not he was a lord, and his ghosts should be hidden under that protection. Most of the time he preferred that things went like this, mainly for avoiding inconvenient questions about subjects he didn't intend to share.

"Roxton! John Roxton!" - he heard somebody shout. He turned and could not resist smiling.

"Edward Malone." - They hugged each other long and warmly. Roxton withdrew his friend a little, holding him by the shoulders.

"Let me look at you." - He said, observing the journalist who wore a pair of brown flannel trousers, white shirt, tie and sweater bought from some hawker, but very clean and neatly ironed. He used brown leather shoes faultlessly shone. His hair was short and not a single stubble could be seeing in his shaved face. – "You look thinner, kid."

"I'm very well, Roxton. What have you been doing?"

"Me? I have been doing everything as usual: taking care of the family business, attending the regular commitments, hunting a little, and having fun whenever I can. And what about you?" - before the young man could speak something, he was interrupted - "Don't answer me now. Are you busy?"

"Actually, I was going back home."

Roxton smiled mischievously.

"Is there somebody waiting for you?"

Ned laughed.

"No."

"Have you already have lunch?"

Malone showed the paper bag and the small glass bottle containing some juice.

"I'll eat in the train."

John took the things from his friend's hands.

"Today you are my guest, Malone."

* * *

Roxton chose an old, but small pub. He asked for a table away from the noise, where they could talk at ease.

They were served with a succulent roast beef and potatoes, and drank the traditional English ale beer.

They ate with pleasure, sharing between them things in a way they didn't do since a long time, enjoying each other's company, and talking banalities.

Influenced by some extra drinks, Roxton told Malone a little bit more about his life. His mother's death some weeks before and the promise that he had made by her bed-side about finding a woman to marry, and how he was keeping the family business (a family now concentrated in himself) always more profitable, as well as about the social obligations.

While he spoke, Ned could notice the anguish and the hunter's loneliness, as it seemed that he for a long time missed someone with whom he could really talk.

Roxton was always friendly and was always ready to help anyone who needed him, especially his friends, but he was also proud and rarely showed or shared his own feelings.

Malone admired that man who he thought to know so well during the three years they have shared the same shelter, and was caught by surprise noticing the vulnerability in his friend. He felt happy and honored to be the person in whom John had trusted to expose himself and to open his heart.

"What about you, Malone? What have you been doing?"

Ned shrugged, smiling.

"Something here, something there. Nothing important."

"And your book?"

"I am rewriting the journals. Actually, they're almost ready. I'll try to find someone interested in publishing them."

"And Gladys? Her father wasn't your editor?" – Roxton was curious.

"Gladys is past now. And so is the editor."

"Let me see if I understood. You finished your relationship with Gladys, lost the editor and have been living on sporadic jobs."

"That's it."

"And, without insult, Malone, considering your appearance, things don't seem to be going very well."

The young man smiled broadly.

"I have enough to live modestly. And sometimes I even save some money."

"But of course you have plans to progress in your professional life, don't you?"

"Actually, I don't."

Now John was caught by surprise.

"What do you mean? You dreamed about it for three years: coming back to London, publishing your book, being a famous journalist."

Malone faced him very seriously. Roxton had never seen an expression so sure and at the same time so serene.

"I'm going back to the lost world, Roxton."

"What?"

"I felt a little off purpose when I arrived… It was as if I had been thrown in the waters of the sea, and was leaving the currents take me. One day I finally found out that I needed to decide what to do… Continuing as I was or sinking were my first two options. I decided to swim, Roxton. I don't know if I'm going to reach my goal, but when I have enough money for the ticket I will go back. This hope is making me happy."

Malone noticed the friend's thoughtful glance.

"Come with me, Roxton."

"Are you crazy! I have family businesses."

"It's just you now."

The hunter hesitated.

"I made a promise to my mother."

"It wasn't a promise and you know that. It was your way to comfort her while she was dying."

Even speaking quietly, they both began to discuss with harshness, facing each other.

"I have nothing there."

"You don't have anything else here."

"Pay attention, Malone." - Roxton was even more irritated - "Everything I've always wanted, I lost in that place."

"You're wrong. It was there where you found everything you've never imagined to have."

"Someone is waiting for you."

"I only hope for that. But even if I was sure she didn't want me, I still would return." - Ned paused while he wrote something in a piece of paper that he put in the table right in front of his friend. Then he said.

"At least London served one purpose. It showed me that the strong man for whom Marguerite fell in love died with her." – Malone got up to leave - "Thank you for the lunch, Roxton."

John stayed seated, motionless, without reaction. His mind was empty. He took the note in front of him, unfolded it and read what was written, just to immediately crush it again, throwing it over the table.

"You're an idiot, Malone."

Then, in only one sip, he drank the rest of the beer, paid the bill and left.

He came back some seconds later to take the wrinkled paper and put it in his pocket.

* * *

Ned checked the time and still sleepy he got up. He had been awake until dawn, knowing that he could sleep until late and now...

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" - He opened the door, surprised when seeing the visitor entering his room without ceremony.

"If it was to live in a den, you could at least have chosen a room in a lower floor."

"It's more expensive. And who let you come up?"

"I bribed the janitor. You're almost naked, Malone."

"It's 6AM, Roxton." – The journalist complained, stopped in the middle of the room, only in his underwear, rubbing his eyes. In answer, the hunter threw his the clothes that were over the chair.

"It's late. Get dressed."

"Why?"

"Because we need to continue the conversation we had two weeks ago."

"Hadn't we already finished it?"

"You are going to help me to resolve some things."

"Me? Help with what?"

"Sell properties, get rid of some assets, publish a book, buy first class tickets to South America."

"Roxton, I..."

"Shut up and get dressed now, Malone."

"Alright." – The journalist agreed, smiling, already closing the flies of his trousers, while the hunter thought.

"But first we have a very important thing to do."

"What?"

"Visit a friend... "

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_**Please R&R**_


	8. Chapter 8

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 8**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

One more time, thank you very much: Cris, Roxana, Santa Crux, Katybelle.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

_

* * *

_

"Pay attention, Malone. Being lazy is a dangerous disease. If you don't take care, you may finish like this: lying under a tree, in the middle of the afternoon."

"Do you think he's sleeping, Roxton?"

"Hummm! Actually, I don't know. Any idea about how we can check?"

The journalist took a slender wooden stick and handed it to the hunter.

"How about poking him? It usually works to know if somebody is sleeping or dead."

"Neither one nor the other." – The man lying down advised them, eyes still shut - "And don't stay in front of me – you are preventing the sun rays to get to me."

"Did you see, Roxton? He is still rude."

"What if we put one of our domesticated raptors to attack him?"

The scientist lazily opened one of his eyes.

"Do you mean you two now are creating raptors to earn a living, your scoundrels?"

"Get up, George." - hunter smiled. Malone immediately stretched out his hand, helping the scientist to get up. He was tightly hugged. Then Challenger looked at the young man.

"You look thinner, kid."

"I'm very well, Challenger." - the journalist laughed, remembering that Roxton had said the same thing to him when they had met again.

"And you, old boy?" - He hugged the hunter warmly - "You put on weight."

"It's a problem with your eyes, George."

"And how are you both?"

"Actually, very well."

"And may I ask what brought you here?"

"It depends on you."

The scientist laughed.

"Me? How can it depend on me, if I don't even know what this visit is all about?"

"Let's sit down under your tree and talk a little, George." - John had already removed his jacket - "When we finish, you will tell us if what comes next is a farewell or a new adventure."

Gathered for the first time since a long time, the old companions talked, as they had never done before. Not even in the three years of adventures. As Roxton and Malone some weeks before, each one told his history during the period in which they had been separate.

"Challenger?" - Malone was curious - "why didn't you go to seek Jessie?"

"I also thought a lot about that. She was my mate, but I'm sure that I never was her mate. Jessie was not happy by my side, and she couldn't be. I was too selfish. I love Jessie more than ever. I think that just now I understand that leaving her free is the greatest gift I could ever offer her. Believe me. I'm very sure about my decision."

Roxton laughed. He remembered his own arrogance and insolence, characteristics that he shared with the old George, and recalled that finding out feelings such as humble and simplicity had lightened his heart. He was surprised with George's next question.

"And you Roxton? How is your heart, old boy?"

"Very well, George."

"You know what I mean..."

John was thoughtful, but he didn't have a sad glance. After a while, he said slowly.

"Malone took a huge risk saying things that only a friend would say, and that helped me to wake up. I love Marguerite and that will never change. She's the woman of my life. I said she IS. I will never forget what we had together. Nothing will replace what I lost. However, for some reason I stayed alive and I can't, I must not and I will not spare this gift and spend the rest of my life grieving. You can call me pretentious, but I'm a good man and I deserve anything I can still conquer or achieve. I want to live, George: for my brother, for my father, for my mother, for my Marguerite, and especially for myself."

Although clearly touched, Roxton was calm and firm. After a pause, Challenger continued.

"You know, I thought a lot about that subject... And I am absolute sure that, in those circumstances, Veronica could never have saved Marguerite."

"What do you mean, George?"

"When the plateau was unstable, Veronica became the only connection that made it possible for that spectacular force to be controlled and to reestablish the balance, saving whatever existed in there, including us."

"Except for Marguerite." - Ned completed.

"Marguerite and Veronica. Two human beings absolutely normal, but at the same time very special ones. On that moment, the special characteristics of Marguerite prevented Veronica to reach and save her, as she did with the rest of us."

"As if they two were the same pole of a magnet?"

"Exactly. While common human beings, Veronica and Marguerite would be perfectly capable to protect each other. However, this would not be the same when they used their powers. If the situation was inverse, Marguerite couldn't also have saved Veronica."

"What if Veronica or any one of us had arrived at the cave in time?"

"Then we could fight and try to save her, or die trying. It would have been a worthwhile battle."

"Deep in her heart, Veronica still feels that she could have done more."

"I believe that we all feel in that way..." - Ned said, facing John, who sustained his glance, understanding.

"Did you know you're becoming a great philosopher, Malone...? As a matter of fact, wait..." – Challenger interrupted - "Have you received my letter?"

"I didn't receive anything. How long have you sent it?"

"Actually I sent the missive recently, but by now it should has already arrived."

"And what did it say?"

George got up.

"My friends, let's take a walk. I have a very important thing to tell you."

They began walking together, and Challenger, with his powerful voice of teacher and lecturer, continued.

"Well, despite everything that happened, I'm still a member of the Zoological Society: a far member, but still a member."

Ned and Roxton agreed.

"About twenty days ago I received a letter. As far as I know, its contents are highly confidential. Leaned and financed by several business groups, scientists and exploiters are being gathered for a great expedition to return to the plateau."

"How many, George?"

"I believe that about twenty, maybe thirty. Their mission is to discover and explore the natural and scientific potentialities that exist there - if they really exist, according to them."

"But we know that they exist!" - Ned got scared.

"Did you already imagine all those people digging, picking samples? They would destroy that place."

"I was invited to join the group, but I don't want to return as an explorer. I'm sure that Roxton is the next one to be invited."

"And how about Malone?"

"Malone has the most important element for them. It would make it possible for them to reach their goals even if none of the others would decide to collaborate."

The journalist lowered his head, understanding immediately.

"The journals."

George just smiled to them both.

"When I saw you today, I felt that you had come looking for me because only this subject was capable of reuniting our lives once more. Not that we can't be friends just here, but what makes us more than normal people is the unique and inspiring experience we've shared together."

"Tickets for three, George?"

"Once you are paying, Lord Roxton, I demand the best cabin of the ship."

"You will have it, my friend. But we still have a lot of things to do."

"And a lot of things to rewrite." - Ned completed.

"I know exactly what you're thinking, gentlemen." - Challenger smiled - "If it depends on me, the wild scientists and exploiters of the Zoological Society will be guided to anywhere in the world but to our beloved plateau."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_**Please R&R**_


	9. Chapter 9

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 9**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Once again thank you: Cris, Katybelle, Santa Crux.

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

* * *

"Here is the other ones, Malone." - Roxton arrived, bringing some of the journalist's journals. Ned was comfortably seated in the ground, in front of the lit fireplace, surrounded by some more copies.

"Thank you, Roxton."

The hunter went to the opposite side of the room, returning with two bottles. He removed his shoes, sitting down besides his also barefoot friend, to whom he offered a glass, already full of the scotch and water mix that would keep them sober for hours without withdrawing them from the drink's pleasure.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Malone? We can think about another solution."

"I'm sure that I don't want to do it. But I will..." - Ned threw the first journal into the fire. - "And you? Are you sure that you wouldn't like to read them?"

"Is there any secret that I should have known?"

"I wrote reflections about Summerlee, Challenger, you, and…" - the young man made a pause.

"Marguerite?" - Roxton smiled, and his eyes got lit just by pronouncing her name - "Whatever you had written about each one of us, Ned, it is the true." - The hunter threw the second journal into the fire.

Weeks before, the three of them had taken an important decision, and distributed their tasks.

* * *

Malone went back to downtown, collected his things, and drove to Avebury, where was comfortably hosted in the Roxton's manor, with a very important mission: exclude or change in his journals any reference that could give any clue about how to find the plateau. If it became necessary, he would add false clues to divert any explorer from the real goal.

When Roxton invited him to leave the boarding house and move to Avebury, at first Ned felt ill at ease. He would have to quit the job that, although not paying a lot, maintained him. Despite all his natural insecurity, since he was very young he got used to maintain himself, and he was not willing to live, even if for a short period of time, to Roxton's expenses. Noticing Ned's hesitation, John called him for a personal talk.

"Think about it as a job. The most important job of all."

"I know, Roxton, but I don't get why I should quit my job and move to your house. I won't be at ease."

"I will give you several reasons. One: You have to complete this job as fast as possible and you need good conditions to perform it - you cannot make a mistake. Two: we don't want any curious fellow deciding to seek you or, even worse, somebody invading you room and stealing your journals. Three: I am one of the richest men in all England and offering you a shelter won't bankrupt me. Four: Enjoy all the comfort that you can now, because if everything goes well, soon we will be running from raptors, hunting our food and fixing the treehouse. Five, and more important..."

"What?"

"You will obey because I am older and taller than you. I can punch you."

"I am faster and you would never reach me." - the journalist laughed.

"You became very impertinent, little rascal." - the hunter ended the discussion laughing.

* * *

Unlike Malone who went to Avebury to accomplish his mission, Roxton's job would demand that he was seen for as many people as it was possible to.

He assumed his role as the last and noble representative of Roxton's clan. He went to all the events he was able to, and he seemed to have a good time with all that pomp.

If somebody asked him about his adventures, the hunter pulled a chair, and assuming a deliberately arrogant attitude, he kept talking about his feats for hours.

When anybody asked about the Challenger expedition, he seemed to become even prouder, and he told the adventures in details, emphasizing how much he had been important, helping and usually saving his trip companions. What nobody ever noticed was that, behind those hall's vainglories, there was not a single veridical situation, and that was exactly the hunter's secret diversion. To deceive those fools attentive to histories that never existed, and that they would spread out all around until they reached the ears of the fellows from the Zoological Society.

Roxton also made fast trips to the interior of England, and those had a single objective: to spend money. He saw no sense in simply leave everything behind, and decided he would made good use of his fortune. He chose places distant from London, and carefully wrote down everything that he needed to know. After that, he would come back to downtown's noise.

He was also in charge of the preparations for their journey. For that, he ordered supplies using another name. They were expensively sent through cargo ships directly to a rented warehouse in Belem.

John also went to Italy, where he looked for a factory that could make a balloon in the shortest time frame possible. He paid much more than what the balloon was worth, and made it to be shipped also directly to South America.

Sometimes he needed to be alone for some time. However, his soul was not lonely. In his innermost Roxton knew he would never be alone.

* * *

Although he was the source of the plan, Challenger hated the mission he would have to accomplish.

He left immediately to London, to join the great expedition of the Zoological Society. When arriving, he was informed that the preparations would take some months and that they would take the most modern equipments. George got scared when discovering that besides scientists, hunters, geologists and doctors, among his trip companions would be mainly former-members of the artillery and infantry of the British army.

Well armed, they were men trained for the combat and not for the scientific exploration. It was terrifying just to imagine what could happen if they would meet the Zanga, ape-men or any other plateau community.

Challenger made every effort. He was the first to arrive at work, and the last one to leave. In the meetings, he participated actively with (false) information, suggestions and contagious enthusiasm. He made everything that could maintain that expedition always more distant from the target.

In his heart, he wished for the day in that he would finally come back, with his friends, to his home.

* * *

The scientist entered the room, meeting the journalist and the hunter.

"Take a glass, George. Join us."

Challenger smiled and sat down close to his friends, who served him with something to drink. He helped to throw the remaining diaries into the fire.

"Can I ask you a question, Malone?" - the scientist snapped, without waiting for an answer - "I read the new version of the journals and I think it's excellent... But I am curious about one thing..."

"...there is not one word either about Marguerite, Veronica or Finn." – John interrupted.

"Exactly. Why?"

"I wouldn't like that any reference about them was shared with people who didn't knew they like we do. That's all." - Ned simply answered.

"A toast to that." - Challenger raised his glass, and the other joined him.

"This was the last one." - Roxton threw the last journal that was in his hands into the fire.

"No." – Ned interrupted. He got up and went to the closest table - "This is the last one." - Malone warmly caressed the leather cover of his most precious possession at that moment, and threw it into the fire under the surprised look from his friends – "Let's not take any chance…' – He drank the remaining scotch from his glass.

"It's better we go to sleep, my friends. Tomorrow will be a great day."

* * *

They woke up before five in the morning, and the last preparations were concluded. Before they finished the breakfast, the hunter got up.

"Roxton, could you please put this in the beginning of the book?" – Ned asked, handing him a piece of work facing up, clearly indicating an implicit authorization for the hunter to read it.

"_For two wonderful ladies."_

"It will be my pleasure." - Roxton smiled - "I'll be right back... Coburn?"

"Yes, sir."

"I need to talk to you."

The hunter escorted the old man to the office, and offered him the chair in front of his desk. Roxton opened the locker, from where he took several envelopes. The butler was curious.

"I have some things that I would like you to do. As you probably have already noticed by all the arrangements, my friends and me are about to leave. And believe me when I say that I don't have any intention of coming back." - the man got surprised, but kept the low voice tone that was his characteristic.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"I'm leaving, and its better that you don't know more than this. But I have some things that I would like you to do."

"Certainly, milord."

Roxton took several envelopes tied together, with a string.

"Each envelope should be taken personally to their addressees. Each one of them contains a considerable amount of money and actions. I want you to be sure that each one of the orphanages and boarding schools maintained by the convents listed here will make good use of the money. In addition, never, at any moment, mention my name. Say that it is your donation, or don't say anything."

He took one more envelope.

"In here you will find a book and resources to publish it. It will be done in chapters, in pamphlet format, to be sell weekly in the streets of London. Just a warning: not a word, not a comma, must be increased, excluded or modified. You can read it if you want to, but just after our departure."

"Consider it done, sir."

"And now, the last thing." - he took one more envelope and handed it to Coburn who waited for the instructions - "Open it."

The butler obeyed, and after looking to its content, he faced the hunter.

"Sir... I... I cannot accept it."

"Coburn, everything is already in your name. This property and the other few remaining things are yours. Enjoy a little bit your life, my friend." – Roxton warmly hugged the man whom he always counted with.

"If you won't come back, how can you be so sure that I will do everything you are asking me to?"

"I can have a lot of defects, but I'm proud to always choose my friends well." - the hunter smiled, leaving the place.

* * *

After months of preparations, they proceeded to the harbor from where, installed in the best accommodations available in the ship, they finally departed to Belem.

Seated in the office of his new house, Coburn opened the book that his former boss had trusted him with, and started reading:

"_1. There Are Heroisms All Round Us_

_Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth,..." (1)_

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_**Please R&R**_

_(1) The Lost World – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle._


	10. Chapter 10

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 10**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Cris, Hmm, Katybelle, Santa Crux. For you all, thank you very much!

_Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"_

_

* * *

_

For a long time they had imagined how their arrival to Belem would be like.

The harbor, in crisis since 1914 with the depreciation of the rubber, was crowded of people: few merchants and dockworkers, but dozens of inhabitants of the city ran for there whenever some passengers' ship arrived. Black, white, mulattos, and natives had fun seeing that luxurious embarkation moor at the wharf of 1.869 meters.

Except for the passengers who disembarked, nobody wore well cut suits. The residents were humble people in simple clothes, many of them barefoot, with their families and noisy children having fun with craft toys.

After the immigration's disencumber, the three of them awaited for their luggage. Actually, each one had just a small bag.

Under the scalding heat of a sunny and humid morning, a boy awaited for them. It seemed that he was barely eighteen or nineteen years old. Wearing pants of cotton fabric, shirt of short sleeves and boots made of ox leather, he approached.

"Mr. John Smith?" - He asked in a loud voice, trying to be heard above the noises surrounding them.

"That's me." - Roxton said, under the curious glance of his friends when they heard that name.

"Everything is ready, sir." - He handed a small briefcase to the hunter.

"Thank you."

"Sir?" - the boy handed him an involucre made of bamboo - "This was gave to me some minutes ago by a man by the pier entrance. He told me to hand it to one of you. I don't know what it is about."

Roxton looked at the object and was curious to open it, but he preferred to examine its content in a more reserved place. He opened the briefcase that he had just received and put the bamboo thing inside it.

"Please, follow me."

Lost in their thoughts, none of them talked during the car itinerary to the magnificent Grande Hotel. As in the ship, the hunter had made reservations in the best available accommodations.

John dismissed the boy, giving him precise instructions to pick them up at dawn in the following day.

The three went to their rooms, where they took a shower and rested in beds covered with expensive sheets and perfumed with lavender. Despite of the comfort of the ship, the anxiety allowed them just a little sleep during the trip, and they were exhausted.

Malone was the first one to wake up, and sat by the desk, taking pen and paper.

"_I, who one day imagined to make this journey alone, now am here with my best friends."_

"_No word can describe the relief that I feel at this time. Relief for the first time in my life knowing who I really am and where I want to go to."_

He thought about what else he could write, but he concluded that those few words expressed everything.

If they could choose, they would have penetrated deep into the woods as fast as possible, but reaching the goal for which they have prepared for so long required everything to be done very carefully.

They met again hours later, in the lunch served at a reserved room exclusively for them, with a sight to a square planted with lots of mango trees, in front of the Teatro da Paz (Theater of Peace).

"Roxton, now you are really looking like a nobleman." – Challenger teased, when seeing his friend.

"You too." – Actually they had all got rid of their suits and elegant and hot hats, and they dressed pants and shirt-sleeves made in regional fabric, much more comfortable and appropriate for the Amazonian heat.

After the tasteful and relaxed lunch, where they were introduced to duck in tucupi, with jambú leafs, and açaí mixed with manioc flour and sugar for desert, Roxton took the briefcase. He explained to Challenger and Malone that, at the same time that he ordered to deliver the supplies bought in Europe in the warehouse that he had rented in Belem, he sent the receipts to a company in the city. Now, in possession of the papers, he could take the provisions, including the balloon in which they intended to try to arrive to the plateau as they had done in the first time. He had also already provided all the loaders that they would need.

"You were really very cautious." - eulogized Ned.

The hunter recalled the mysterious involucre that he had received. It took some time to open it, and when he managed to do it, he found a piece of fabric carefully coiled. Cleaning a space over the lunch's table, he extended the cloth so that the other ones could also see what it was about. Despite being very simple and primitive, it was obvious that the drawing done with craft paints represented some kind of map.

Malone knew some topography, which he had learned during the war, and John also had a good knowledge on the subject. However, it was Challenger who noticed what it was all about.

"Gentlemen, I believe that part of the effort in the preparation of this whole trip was unnecessary. I can be wrong, but we won't need supplies, loaders or even the balloon." - He took the fabric before continuing - "As it seems, our journey will be calmer than we could ever expect."

The following day, Roxton paid and dismissed all the loaders. They collected what were in the warehouses and distributed almost everything among the people of the city. About the balloon, they were careful enough to destroy it definitively, in order to prevent it to ever being used.

Finally, wearing clothes made in serge and boots, and just carrying their backpacks and hunt weapons, they left…

From Belem to a small city, from there to a smaller one, later to the closest town. From there they proceeded to a village, from where they went along the Amazon River. In the middle of the journey, they started to be escorted by natives that they had known in a time that seemed very long ago.

Differently of the first time, they smiled frankly when they finally arrived to the small and rustic village, where they were warmly welcomed. It seemed the whole tribe was around them.

If when they left the plateau they had been gifted with the best that tribe could offer them, during their return the situation was not different.

Taken to the shallow part of the river, where it formed small swimming pools of running water, they were bathed with herbs, wore in clean clothes, and fed, before they were installed at the small cottage where they slept almost immediately, absolutely exhausted of the calm, but very long trip.

When they wake up, they walked through the village.

Challenger was still enchanted with the women's ability in the art of weaving baskets from natural straws. He also visited the farming and he was satisfied when seeing that what he taught had been useful and that the crop would be more than plenty.

Malone was taken by the hunters who made jokes about his small ability to hunting. If he needed, he would be able to provide his own sustaining, but he would never be an expert hunter. He cut firewood that was used to roast bread in the mud oven that he had helped to build.

Roxton came out of the village and using signs made the children follow him to the river, where they spend a lot of time raising them by his shoulders, using him as diving-board and summoning him to join them in the recreation. He noticed that many of the native ones to whom he had taught some hunt techniques now showed ability even bigger than his.

When darkness fell, they met up with the native chief close to the bonfire. He gave them a bag filled with tobacco showing how they should inhale it.

After some minutes, they felt light and completely opened to listen to the words that would come next.

"When you arrived here at the first time, I told you that this community has been here to receive those who left the plateau. And now I tell you that we also exist to help all those who want and deserve to go back."

"That's the reason why you were guided back here." - he made a pause under the three men's attentive glance - "As well as it was allowed to you to leave with a very precious thing, this time you can choose one thing that you would like to take with you."

Challenger and Malone thought a little.

"There is nothing that I want to take with me." - the journalist said.

"I can't think about anything that I would want and that is not already in the plateau." – Challenger smiled, when reminding of the laboratory that had set up at the treehouse.

They looked at Roxton.

"I will take back the only thing that I brought with me when I left." -smiling, he caressed the picture that he always had with him.

All of a sudden, the three men expressed their concern.

"There is a very big expedition being prepared to try to find the plateau. We tried to mislead them, but we're afraid that one day they can reach their objective." - Challenger said, concerned.

"Persistent as you are, I'm sure that you did a great job. But don't worry. Who knows how far your false clues had sent them, maybe even farer than what you could ever imagine." - The native calmly answered.

"The map that you sent to us... Were you sure that we would return?" - It was the time for Roxton to ask.

"Yes. Since the beginning." - Again the man's answer was calm.

"And why didn't you tell us, instead of allowing us to loose so much time until now?" - Ned was inconvenienced.

"Would that stop you from returning to your origins?"

None of them answered. And no answer was needed.

"I have one last question." - Challenger was curious - "You will show us the entrance to the plateau..."

"Yes. One of them, at least..."

"Also knowing the exit, can we leave the plateau when we want?"

The native smiled.

"You are free to go and to come when you want to. But something gives me the certainty that we will never see each other again."

And that was how they went up river and, once again, threw themselves in the waterfall, sure about leaving behind the world that they knew so well for finally coming back to the place that was their home: the plateau.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_**Please R&R**_

_**Teatro da Paz – A theater. A landmark build in Belem in 1874.**_

_**Açaí (Euterpe oleracea) – small fruit of the açai Tree, a lanky palm tree that reaches 30 m of height and produces bunches with dozens of round pits (fruits) – The pronounce is something like 'assaee'.**_

**_Jambú (Spilanthes acmella) –_ flowering herb_ used in culinary and as a medicinal component._**

_**Tucupi – A cassava sauce**_


	11. Chapter 11

**PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM**

**Chapter 11**

_AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux_

_Translation, Lady Cris Krux_

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.

SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM

To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.

Thank you, for being so kind: Cris, Roxana.

"_PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM" was originally written in Portuguese and published from Nov, 2004 to June, 2005._

* * *

"Veronica, I..." – listening to the elevator's noise, Finn turned, stopping in the middle of the sentence.

"Is that a manner of receiving visitors, young lady?"

"CHALLENGER!"

Screaming and running, the girl of the future reacted euphoric, literally throwing herself to the scientist's neck, who barely had time to hug her back.

"It's very nice to see you too, Finn."

Finally, she released George, just to scream again.

"ROXTON!" - it was the hunter's time to feel her tight hug.

"I've barely arrived and you already want to hang me?" - she not even had time to answer.

"MALONE!" - Despite of having known the journalist for so little time, she was not intimidated in hugging him as strongly as the other ones.

"How are you, Finn?"

"Missing you... All of you."

She released the young man, but she didn't resist and jumped again to Challenger's neck. After some seconds, he moved her away from himself.

"Let me look at you, young lady." - George arched his thick brow – "What are these clothes you are wearing?"

She stood up straight, proud of herself.

"I began my training with the amazons."

"Amazons?"

"They didn't want to accept me, but Veronica interceded."

"And where is she, Finn?" - Malone was afflict.

"She cooked breakfast and left very early."

"When will she be back?"

"I never know. Sometimes she only comes back at nightfall." - the girl made a pause before continuing - "Where are your stuff?"

"We don't have anything."

Finn shrugged the shoulders. After all, to have them all back was more than enough.

"But how rude I am. Come to eat."

She guided them to the table, still prepared for breakfast.

The men were starving and they ate with pleasure.

"What have you been doing?" - the hunter finally asked.

"As I already said, soon I will be an amazon warrior. Actually, not so soon. I like to go there to workout, but I don't like to be far away from here for a long time. Then I think it will take a long time. And I already read very well, Challenger."

"That's excellent, young lady." - George eulogized - "Have you already read all of the books of the library?"

"Not all of them yet. But when I finish them all, I will read again those I liked the most."

"I'm proud of you, Finn." - the scientist smiled sincerely, and the girl responded with a smile from her own.

"And how is Veronica?" - John asked, before Malone did it.

"She's fine... I mean..."

"What?"

The girl sighed.

"I think she pretends to be fine."

"Tell us."

She hesitated for instants.

"Please, don't say anything to her, because actually those are things that I have just been keeping with me... and I am usually wrong."

The men were plainly attentive, and Finn continued.

"You came, and she has a family for three years. Then, I come from the future. Suddenly, she remembers what happened to her father, finds out about Avalon and the protectors, the plateau is almost destroyed, Marguerite dies, you leave... A lot of things happened all at once."

"What about her mother? Any news?"

"Veronica tried and tried to find her mother through the plateau for a long time, but she didn't find any track. The only thing that she has are the dreams, that always tells her that she should wait, and that the day when she will finally meet her mother is getting closer. However, that day seems to never arrive, even after so much time." - Finn made a pause - "Somehow everyone searches for answers, but all the doubts remained with Veronica. Where is her mother and why she cannot find her, if she could have avoided Marguerite's death, and you all leaving." - she stopped for some instants - "On that day, as soon as you jumped in the waterfall, we went down the river and we found most of your things. Weapons, backpacks, supplies. Even Malone's journals."

"My journals?"

"Yes. And they are all in the library. Wrapped in linoleum, exactly as we found them. Veronica never wanted to unwrap them. We never knew if you were alive or dead. We couldn't know."

"Don't you talk?" – It was Roxton time to ask.

"About almost everything, yes, but about how she feels, never. It is difficult for her to need help. Sometimes I tried, but she quickly changed the subject, always. I think Veronica feels very lonely, and I don't know what else I can do to help her."

The three men remained quiet.

"I'll find her." - Ned rose, afflict.

"Try at the lake, Malone. Sometimes she stays reading under the trees."

"Thank you." - the journalist said, already descending through the elevator.

"He didn't even take a gun." – John resigned himself - "I hope that he doesn't find any dinosaur in his way."

Finn served a little more tea to her friends.

"I want to know everything about you, Finn. What have you been doing?"

"Me? Well, as I said, I have been reading a lot. Besides that, the usual. While looking for Avalon, Veronica took me to many places in the plateau. I even think that by now I know more places than you." - she provoked.

"I doubt. How do you fell? I mean... Are you happy?"

"I like this time, I like the treehouse, I like my friends. Sometimes I even like running away from the raptors. Yes, I'm happy. And now I am happier because you came back."

"That's good, Finn."

"You're going to stay, aren't you?"

"If you want us back..."

"If we want? The lab is still in the same place." – Suddenly, the girl got up and ran to the wall, returning soon afterwards - "And this is yours, Roxton."

The hunter smiled when receiving his hat back. He examined it carefully until finally wearing it again.

"How do I look?"

"Perfect, as usual." -George smiled when seeing his friend.

It was such a happy, and at the same time such a curious feeling, to be back to the treehouse.

The three of them kept at the table, chatting, until Roxton get up.

"It's better to look for Malone. I don't think it's a good idea for him to walk unarmed through the plateau."

"I'm going with you."

"Wait for me." - Finn completed - "The weapons are in the same place as usual."

"I'll take them." - John offered.

George listened to the elevator, and already waited for the journalist who had obviously not found...

"Veronica?" - The young woman stopped, looking at the two men without stopping her eyes in none of them. She seemed not to believe in what she was seeing. Challenger approached her.

"Hello, dear. By any chance do you still accept explorers at your treehouse?"

Not controlling herself, she hugged the scientist, who was also touched.

"This is your house, Challenger."

Then she looked at John, and it was his time to hug her warmly.

"I missed you, my friend."

"I missed you too, Roxton."

Finally, the young woman lifted her head, looking around. She obviously looked for something.

"Ned?"

"Malone is very well."

She sighed. Even if Malone had not came back with Challenger and Roxton, knowing he was alive and well brought her a kind of relief she had lost hope of finding one day. After some seconds, she tried to recompose herself.

"Did you eat?"

"We're fine, Veronica." - the hunter smiled - "But there is a journalist who left unarmed to search for you, and it's better that you find him before he gets into trouble."

She took sometime to understand and, without even saying goodbye, quickly entered in the elevator.

* * *

Malone closed the gate. When he turned, his heart almost stopped when noticing Veronica leaving the elevator.

He observed the young woman, at the same time that he walked very slowly in her direction. She seemed in trance and she barely breathed.

The man approached. He had never seen such an anguish glance in her face.

Veronica closed her eyes when he caressed her face, but she practically didn't move. She waited for some seconds, until tilting her head to the side, griping the young man's hand slightly with her shoulder. She seemed to fear that nothing of that was real. Finally, she opened her eyes. She put her hand in the journalist's face, feeling the stubs of a very short beard, result of days walking in the jungle.

Ned, who always had been sure that it would be him to seek refuge and encouragement in her strength, was surprised when seeing her so vulnerable.

Warmly, he hugged her, who hugged him back at the same gently crying, snuggled against his chest.

* * *

Challenger, Roxton, Malone, Veronica and Finn were dedicated to the reorganization of their small family.

The treehouse needed small repairs, and they needed activities that could be shared among all of them. They began with a collective effort where they repaired the roof, made a careful clean up in all the rooms, giving a special attention to the bedroom that Roxton and Malone shared, and to the laboratory and Challenger's bedroom that for so long were not cleaned so carefully.

Roxton and Veronica left to hunt, and very often Finn joined them. But invariably they transformed the activity into a dispute, and the girl of the future liked to observe them in that curious battle, until they both would make her to join them, and the competition would then involve the three of them.

Challenger and Malone were in charge of in the reform of the windmill, which suffered adaptations to be also ready for grinding the coffee and wheat. And with Finn's progresses in the reading, George was happy in teaching her more about science.

Ned and Veronica spent lots of time with each other. They had many things to talk about. Above all, they wanted, more than ever, to be together. Even knowing that nobody had doubts on the extent their relationship had reached, when in the tree house each one of them would go back to their own rooms. They imagined that their friends, especially Challenger, could feel uncomfortable someway.

* * *

"Can I go with you?"

Veronica smiled when seeing Challenger already dressed and ready to leave so early in the morning. She used to walk, to pick some fruits or take care of the flowers in her father's and Marguerite's graves early in the morning, but she rarely had company for doing that.

"Of course. Don't you want to have your breakfast first?"

"No. We can eat later." – the scientist smiled.

While they walk, they enjoyed the delightful company of each other, and they shared some impressions about the plateau, as they always did.

"Don't misunderstand me, Challenger. You know that I love your company, but I think that you came with me for some special reason."

"You know me very well." -Challenger laughed, and they sat down, enjoying the delicious morning gentle wind - "Forgive me to talk about it, but..." - he made a pause and cleared his throat trying to find the right words - "... I know that it is none of my business, not anybody's business, by the way, but we noticed that Malone has been going to your room in the middle of the night."

Veronica blushed.

"Challenger..."

"Please, let me continue. You and Malone are adults and love each other. We are not in London, and you don't need to provide explanations to anybody at all."

"We didn't want to constrain you."

"I'm happy that you worry about us, and I admit that, if it was years ago, certainly we could feel constrained, somehow. And certainly, I would never have the courage to talk to you about it. But not nowadays. If you really want to stay together, then stay together. Believe me when I say that nothing else could make me happier. And I'm sure that all of us think this same way."

The young woman laughed.

"Thank you, Challenger."

* * *

The hunter left some days after Veronica had talked to Ned about her conversation with Challenger, and all of them finally had helped the couple settling in a more comfortable way.

Roxton felt it was important to leave the couple alone for some days, and convinced Finn to take Challenger to one of her training trips to the amazons. The most difficult was to convince the scientist to leave his experiences, even for a short period. He still argued that he would be quiet in his laboratory, but John was categorical.

"George, choose. You spend few days with Finn and the amazons, or I drag you with me without any clear destination."

The scientist was fast in his answer.

"Amazons."

John remembered some people that he had found along the years in the plateau, and he decided to see them again.

Among others, he visited the Hagens, now governed by a legitimate and fair leadership, and also Pakim and the children whose houses had already been built in the trees. Both communities had prospered thanks, among other things, to him and his friends' help.

He spent some days with Adama, who continued to live alone. Different from the last time when she received them with a tranquilizing dart, she offered him shelter for some days, and he paid back her with precious help in the daily tasks. Both of them had fun in friendly conversations near the bonfire.

But after bidding her farewell, the hunter meditated. Who would cry for that old lady when she passed away?

Roxton arrived at the next town at the end of the afternoon. He had walked all day, and was tired and starving.

"Hey, hey, hey." - pretending to be afraid, the hunter lifted his arms when the boy approached, pointing a small tree branch to him - "Please, don't hurt me."

"Who are you?" - the boy asked, daring.

"It is difficult to answer while somebody as courageous as you is pointing a weapon to me. What is your name, small warrior?"

The boy puffed up his chest.

"My name is Cassius, after my father."

The hunter lowered himself in front of the boy.

"Cassius? I knew your father, and he was a great warrior, as one day you will be." - the hunter shook Cassius' hand - "My name is John Roxton."

"Lord John Roxton." - he listened. Then he got up, greeting the leader of the Tintas, who approached.

"Just John Roxton. Hello, Tarya."

The young woman looked at the boy.

"It seems that you already met Cassius."

"He's very smart. And looks like his father."

"Thank you. What brings you here?"

"I have been traveling through the plateau visiting old friends."

"Are you just passing by or can we offer you the hospitality of the Tintas? But I should inform you that it is crop season, and we always need extra help. So, you better think well before say yes." - she smiled.

"It will be an honor to help." - he answered.

"As you know, we use to meet together during the meals. You can leave your stuff in the same cottage that you occupied before, and join us."

Taking the child's hand, Tarya conducted the hunter to the village.

"And how are professor Challenger and Veronica?"

* * *

Roxton came back to the treehouse almost one month later, where he stayed with his friends explorers for fifteen days more, returning soon afterwards to the Tintas' village. He wanted to learn a little more about fishing. The hunter had great pleasure in the manual labour, and he liked to leave at dawn and return at dusk with the canoe full of fish. The Tintas had defeated the Hikaris once, but, despite of being peaceful, they should be prepared to defend themselves when they needed. Aided by his faithful apprentice, young Cassius, John took for himself the responsibility of teaching everything that he knew to the villagers. The Tintas would remain cordial to their friends, but attentive to their enemies.

As time went by, Roxton left behind the role of an inhabitant of the treehouse, to become a very welcome visitor.

* * *

Veronica would be away for some days with the Zangas and she wouldn't meet her friend. Then, comfortably seating in the balcony after dinner, it was Ned's duty to question the hunter.

"Veronica talked to me about something that she would like to discuss with you the next time you came to the treehouse. Considering that she's not here, I will risk receiving an impolite answer."

"Just talk, Malone." – the man was curious, but relaxed.

"You... and... Tarya... I mean." - the journalist hesitated. Roxton looked at him.

"Malone. After all we've lived together, do you still have any doubt that you can ask me anything you want?"

"Did you tell her everything, Roxton?"

"The first thing that me and Tarya did, when noticing that we could become important to each other, was to talk openly." - Roxton thought for some instants - "Tarya knows that I will never love anybody as I love Marguerite, as well as I know that she will never love anybody as she loves Cassius. But they're dead, and none of us can go back to the past. However, we both have a present and we want to have a future."

Malone raised the glass in a toast.

"I wish you to be very happy, my friend."

And in the following day, Roxton went back to the Tintas' village, while the treehouse returned to its routine.

* * *

_Epilogue_

After more than a month far away from the treehouse, Roxton smiled when seeing Veronica walking in the forest some meters ahead. He stopped observing her for some seconds. Years before he had met a strong and lonely girl, that had became a beautiful woman. And now, more than eight month in pregnancy, she seemed more radiant than ever. He ran to her, taking the bag that she carried.

"You know very well that you shouldn't be carrying any weight. It would be good neither for you nor to the baby. Have you ever thought about a raptor appearing from nowhere?" – He reproached, but quickly softened his expression.

"Ned spends his time guarding me to prevent that I go out alone, and when I finally manage to slip away without him noticing, I meet you."

"He's right. I imagine that the journalist is more nervous than ever. How much time left?"

"Two, three weeks at most. I think this was my last escape." - she smiled, sitting down on a fallen trunk. Roxton did the same, already taking an orange in the backpack he carried, cutting it in four pieces and sharing it among them.

"How are Challenger and Finn?"

"They don't stop at home more. Challenger continues to go with Finn to the Amazons, and now he insists that she cannot walk through the jungle without him. They spend days away, but very often Finn comes back alone. She says that Challenger and Selena have had long, reserved and educative conversations, about the science advances..."

Roxton laughed loudly when observing Veronica's wicked smile.

They stayed there for some time, appreciating the beautiful landscape of the spring in the plateau, and feeling the delicious breeze of the afternoon.

"How are you, Roxton?"

"Much better than I deserve."

"And Tarya?"

"She became a good friend and mate. A survivor like all of us." - Veronica held the hand of the thoughtful hunter, who, after a pause, continued - "The rain was heavy on that area and we have been having a lot of work in the village. We are making some repairs. I came back to take some tools, if you can borrow them, of course."

"Since when you need to ask?"

"I know. Just kidding. If there is no problem, I'll spend the night in the treehouse and return to there tomorrow morning."

The young woman barely had time to show her disappointment, before he continued.

"Don't worry. I'll be here when the baby arrives. Can I bring Tarya also? She wants to see you and Challenger again, and to meet Malone and Finn. And you would also have the chance to meet young Cassius."

"I would really appreciate that." - she smiled, when seeing her friend so calm.

"You know that I'm not used to have a sixth sense, but something tells me that maybe you will meet your mother very soon."

"I would love if she could be here when the child born." – she answered, in a mix of sadness and hope.

"Any clue if the baby is a boy or a girl?"

"Challenger prepared one of his formulas and wanted me to drink it. He swore that depending on my reaction he could define the baby's gender, but I preferred not to try." – she laughed.

"Wise decision."

"Ned always calls the baby as 'him ', but the Zanga healer is absolutely sure she is a girl."

"Did you already choose a name?"

"Well, if he is a boy, he will be named after Ned's father."

"And if she is a girl?"

Veronica turned, facing him and glancing tenderly her friend, who immediately understood.

"May I?" - he asked, touched.

The young woman took the hunter's hand, putting it over her swollen belly. Roxton greeted smoothly.

"Hello, little Marguerite..."

**THE END**

_A special thanks to all people who read this fic and were kind enough to take their time to leave reviews or comments._

_**References: Tribute, Nectar, Amazons, The Guardian, Into The Fire. **_


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